


Anything

by Jo (jmathieson)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Movie Night, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 06:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7745920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/pseuds/Jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a quick little Get-Together story I wrote for #Daily Phlint</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything

They’d been circling each other for months. 

Clint had dropped “Sir” entirely a while back, but now he’d switched from “Coulson” to “Boss" and he said it with a smile and warm affection in his voice whenever they were alone. And he’d switched his range time around, so that he now practised first thing in the morning, when Phil was usually also at the range keeping his own skills sharp.

Three months ago Phil had suggested they spar together. A month later Clint started dropping into Phil’s office around lunchtime to ask if he was heading to the cafeteria. And when Phil said he was too busy, Clint would buy both their lunches and bring them back, flopping on the couch in Phil’s office to eat, and then lounging there afterwards, doing his paperwork or playing games on his Pad.

Two weeks ago after a long hard mission that ended in an epic firefight and an even more epic debrief, Phil had found himself not wanting to go home alone to his apartment. So he’d invited Clint over for pizza and movies. Nothing happened that night. Clint crashed on Phil’s sofa and they went out to breakfast at Phil’s favourite diner the next morning before parting ways, but ever since then thing had been subtly different between them.

Clint met his eyes more often, and didn’t look away as quickly. And the casual, day-to-day touches of two people who worked and trained and ate together become more frequent, and lasted longer…

The next Friday that they weren’t on a mission, Phil invited Clint over again. They scarfed a pizza and downed a couple of beers to the latest episode of Dog Cops, and then Clint heaved himself off the sofa.

“What do you want to watch next?” Phil asked.

“Something with lots of explosions,” Clint grinned as he gathered up the pizza box and the empty beer bottles before heading to the kitchen. Phil scrolled through the Netflix menu with only half his mind on the titles - the other half was trying to evaluate just how close Clint had been sitting to him on the sofa, and what (if anything) it had meant. He saw 'Tom Cruise' and 'Action' on the next line of the menu and hit ‘Play’ without even bothering to read the title of the movie. 

Clint came back with two beer bottles dangling from his long, strong fingers and handed one to Phil, who took it in both hands. Clint took a swig of his own, then set the bottle down on the coffee table and flopped back onto the sofa, his arm snug up against Phil’s side, their thighs and knees touching. 

“Okay, then,” thought Phil. He took a long swallow of his beer and put the bottle down next to Clint’s, than sat back and stretched his arm out along the back of the sofa behind Clint’s head. The opening sequence of the movie played, and Phil could feel Clint relaxing into him. Snuggling into his side. Phil took a long deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he slid his arm off the back of the sofa and around Clint’s shoulders. 

Clint made a contented humming sound and snuggled closer, turning sideways a little, wrapping his arm around Phil’s waist, and leaning his head on Phil’s shoulder. Phil let the movie play for another few minutes while he gathered the courage to ask the question he needed to ask. He couldn’t afford to make assumptions about what was going on. He knew Clint’s file by heart, knew that there was every chance this was just a result of Clint having been starved for touch and affection for most of his life. Just a sign that he trusted Phil enough to finally let his guard down.

Phil slid his hand down until he touched the warm skin just below the sleeve of Clint’s t-shirt and squeezed lightly. Then he hit ‘Mute’ on the movie.

“Clint,” he said quietly into the silence, “What do you want from me?”

Clint looked up. His face twisted into a shadow of his usual cocky grin, but his voice was rough as he asked, “What can I have?”

“Anything,” Phil said, surprising himself at the ferocity with which he meant it. “You can have anything you want.”

Clint moved. In a flash he was straddling Phil’s lap, knees dug deep into the sofa cushions. One hand cradled the back of Phil’s head, his thumb rubbing the short hair there while his other hand hovered over Phil’s face for a moment before he traced a slow line with his fingertips from Phil’s temple to his jaw, and then ghosted over his lips.

“Can I have this?” 

“Yes,” Phil said, his voice breaking on the word. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes.”

“You sure? Need you to be sure, Phil. ‘Cause I can’t have this, have you, and then go back to not having it, you know?” 

“Yes, I know,” Phil said, nodding to try to convince Clint he understood. “I want this,” he said, putting his hands on Clint’s back only to find that the hem of his t-shirt had pulled out of his jeans. Phil took the opportunity to slide his hands under Clint’s shirt and up the broad plains of his back. “I want this,” he said again. “I want you.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when Clint was kissing him. Gently at first; tentatively as if he couldn’t quite believe that this was real, that it was happening. Phil slid his hands up to Clint’s shoulders and gripped, pulling him close. Clint’s kisses became harder, wet, messy and frantic. Phil opened to him easily and willingly, trying to show with his body what he’d said with his words. 

When they finally parted for breath, panting and staring into each others’ eyes, there was a mischievous glint in Clint’s.

“So when you said ‘anything’…”


End file.
